


Clint Barton is: Sexually Attracted to Steve's Dog Tags (Truth), and in Love With Him (Lie)

by Weaver_of_Words



Series: Clint Barton is: Into Inanimate Metal Objects (Truth), Dealing with Living with the Avengers (Lie) [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And I Mean MILD, Cock Rings, Dog Tags, Funny Thor, Fury Made a Joke, Gay, Gay Male Character, How Do I Tag, Lust, MILD AS EFFING MILK, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mild Painplay, Moaning, Only Clint and Steve are really main characters, Other, Showers, Team Dynamics, The other people just kind of get mentioned, There's a sceptical mention of Bucky/Steve, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1229494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weaver_of_Words/pseuds/Weaver_of_Words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton has noticed Steve Rogers before. Clint Barton has also made Steve an off-limits person for anything even remotely related to sex. But Clint Barton is Clint Barton and Clint Barton breaks or at least bends every rule he gets his hands on.<br/>Also, Fury makes a joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clint Barton is: Sexually Attracted to Steve's Dog Tags (Truth), and in Love With Him (Lie)

Steve was shouting commands during one of our battles when I first noticed the metal hanging around his neck. I'd noticed Steve before obviously, everyone had. Blue eyes, blonde hair, wide chest and strong rippling muscles. I bet that most civilians and team members would jump at the chance to fuck (or be fucked by) Steve.

I would, of course. But Steve was uptight and straight as my arrows, so I didn't ever think of Steve in any state of undress unless necessary for emergency or medical reasons.

But the metal was not Steve. The metal was metal and if I chose to imagine it resting on pale, chiseled abs who could say that they were Steve's? I could barely tear my eyes away from the medallion for the rest of the battle, and, honestly it's really hard to fight with you cock straining against your suit and your mind full of thoughts of a medallion and jacking-off.

"Stop looking." I muttered to myself as I shot an enemy through what I thought was maybe the eye socket.

"If you simply ignore the God damned metal maybe you will stop needing a wank so badly." yeah, like that worked. The less I saw real-life Steve the more I saw not-Steve's abs and the metal that clinked around on them.

We finish clean-up and head back to the Quinn-Jet. Only Tony looked at my obvious erection as we boarded. Everyone else seemed to be avoiding looking at me at all. Steve especially, who sat directly across from me avoided my gaze. I looked at the metal now, curious as to what it was.

'Bucky Barnes.' says one tag.

'Steve Rogers' said the other.

Fuck. They were dog tags. Steve's was no big surprise. Of course he'd wear a military dog tag, he's fucking Captain America. Bucky's on the other hand came as a bit of a surprise. I understand that they were best friends and that Steve kind of feels that it's his fault that Bucky is dead. But at the same time part of my mind is telling me that maybe Steve isn't telling the whole story. Maybe he wasn't as straight as I'd thought. Of course that was just the part of me that wanted to be able to cum to a picture of Steve without feeling quite so guilty. I tried to ignore that voice but it was persistent. "What if, what if, what if." it said.

The instant we landed I sprang to the showers, knowing Steve had a habit of checking in with everyone before showering and hoping I could finish before he showed up. I showered very quickly using cold water, which really did not help to reduce the feeling that if I didn't cum soon I'd go insane.

Steve had come in and stripped down before I was done with my shower. I walked out, wrapping a towel around myself and tying not to make my hard-on as not obvious as possible, to find that he had dumped his entire suit on the floor in a heap. I knew that it was a fucking terrible idea, but fucking terrible ideas are my specialty, so I reached down and grabbed the chain from the heap. It was still warm and that almost made me moan, the fact that that metal was still warm from being against his skin.

"Guess I'm not making it back to my room," I muttered quietly to myself.

I scurry back to the shower, tossing my towel haphazardly as I went.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." It's my little chant as I fumble with the controls and somehow manage to turn on the water again.

"FUCK!" this time it's loud because that water is colder than ice.

I practically tear the knob out of the wall as I twist it violently to the side, then sigh as the warm water washes over me. I hear the toilet flush. And then the water is scalding hot.

But then I had other things to worry about because Thor was shouting at me from the door for not including him in the list of Gods that I cursed and I could hear at least three team members cracking up and then Fury was on the radio telling us to 'shut the Hell up' and get our asses down to the conference room in five minutes, no excuses.

A moment later the radio crackles back to life. "And I don't want any bare asses. That's you Cap."

"Did Fury just make a joke?!" shouts Tony, even though there was no need to shout in the complete silence that had followed Fury's... joke?

Everyone seemed confused; everyone except for me. I have tossed all previous rules to the wind and can't help but imagine Steve, naked, laid out on the meeting room table, his eyes looking deep into mine as he strokes himself, metal tags shifting to one side of his body and clinking on the polished glass of the conference table. I shudder and suppress another moan.

I stay in the shower until everyone has left before I bring up the image of the tags, resting on a pale, slightly freckled chest, clinking around above a gorgeous cock. Steve's pale, slightly freckled chest, clinking around above Steve's gorgeous cock. I moan and bite down on the fleshy pad of my thumb in an attempt to stifle any other embarrassing sounds that I might make.

I take the chain and wrap it around my balls, cinching it a little too tight, feeling the small beads of the metal dig in and constrict.

I can hear the whine that I am making, a high pitched, needy sound. I remove my hand from my lips and reach down, grabbing my cock tight and flicking my wrist. I stop caring about the sounds that I'm making, knowing that no one can hear them.

Another flick of my wrist, another twist of the metal chain. I lean back against the wall of the shower. I start thrusting into my hand quickly then, wanting to make the most of the one and only time that I would get to hold the tags in my hand and the one and only time I'd be able to wrap the chain around myself just so, and yet knowing that I'll be getting my ass kicked if I'm too late.

I fell my orgasm building inside of me, pooling, growing, building until I cum all over my chest and my hand, shouting Steve's name over and over and over until I am finished and my legs are weak and my head is foggy.

I finish my shower quickly, knowing I'm going to be late for the debriefing.  
Again.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated and replied to!


End file.
